


Baptism of Fire

by Selah Grace (ohselah)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Battle of Hogwarts, Character Study, Gen, Good Slytherins, Introspection, Minor Canonical Character(s), Multi, POV Minor Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 15:54:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7763935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohselah/pseuds/Selah%20Grace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daphne relates with her house, her family, and her school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baptism of Fire

**Author's Note:**

> I have a self-made class list from Rowling's notebook, so if you're confused by the names, then that might explain it.

Daphne stared at her house mates from the comfy chair in the corner of the common room, as she had grown used to (and perhaps even fond of) doing in her years at Hogwarts. Her fellow Slytherins gathered in the common room quite often, curling around each other so tightly that all of them suffocated in their own way. She loved it, but— _God!_ —how she hated it. Pansy was the basilisk, the queen, of Slytherins; she coiled around as many of them as she could and stared down at them until they could struggle no more. But Daphne, _she_ had a mirror. Daphne could still see how their queen's tail shook and quivered each time she left the familiarity of the common room, her safety net, and her heart burned as she compared that image with the one before her.  
  
Pansy stood confidently under the portrait of Salazar Slytherin; it seemed like she had spent hours perfecting a replica of his disgusted sneer in front of a mirror, for she looked down upon Tracey Davis as though she were not worthy enough to kiss the bottoms of her robes. "It is half-bloods like _you_ that make Millicent so ashamed of her heritage, Davis."

  
  


A dramatic sigh came from another corner of the room, as Theodore Nott glanced up from his books and glared at her. "If you would please _shut up_ , Parkinson, and not start this shit now, some of us would like to pass Potions through intelligence instead of bias."

  
  


Not bothering to hide her smile, Daphne waited for an explosion that never came as Draco Malfoy laid his hand on Pansy's arm and dragged her over to his chair, muttering comforting words at her. Those two were the best of friends, though Daphne thought it was physically impossible, as it was hard enough to fit each of their heads into the room on their own. Surprisingly, each had a sobering influence on the other. Draco and Pansy were like old friends who had gone through too many hardships together and the mere presence of one brought back memories better forgotten. Daphne wanted to dismiss that idea quickly, though, because the Malfoys and Parkinsons were privileged families. What kind of hardships could those two have possibly gone through? Nevertheless, it was a good friendship, if only for the sake of their company being spared the tirades of queens.

  
  


Millicent glanced apologetically at Tracey and shrugged. It was a suitable apology, for now.

  
  


::: ::: :::

  
  


No matter what situation she was in, Pansy lashed out. She insulted people wherever she went, whether she was in the Slytherin common room or she was in the Great Hall. She denounced all of the Gryffindor girls quickly: Hermione Granger was an "ugly know-it-all", while Lavender and Parvati were "brainless twits". She worked her way through their year until she had insulted every one of them, even going so far as to insult them to their face. It drove Daphne to insanity at times. Daphne wished she could dull her sharp tongue—or cut it out entirely!

  
  


When Pansy offered to give up Harry Potter to save herself, though, Daphne decided she had gone much too far. Daphne walked with a constricted heart as she and the rest of Slytherin evacuated Hogwarts, Slughorn leading the pack of them and talking about reinforcements. She gripped the hand of her younger sister. "Astoria, you know Mother and Father won't support this. I need to get to the Owlery and use Erasmus to contact Uncle Laurence."

  
  


Astoria nodded with an unexpected fire burning in her eyes. Daphne's heart warmed with love for her sister. "I know what to do."

  
  


As Daphne lagged behind the giant crowd of Slytherins, she heard the fading sounds of her sister verbally attacking Pansy Parkinson. "How _dare_ you decide the fate of Slytherin, you pug-faced bitch? You speak for none of us, and I'm tired of sitting among the crowd as you hurt your fellow Slytherins!"

  
  


Daphne turned away from the rest of them and quickly rushed to the West Tower, feeling the adrenalin push her tired feet to their limit. She needed to help the rest of her school because she knew the rest of the Slytherins would be attacked if the Dark Lord won. She wished Pansy could understand how unwelcoming the Dark Lord would be since she did not help him in the war. Granted, she tried to help him, but what good is an attempt to someone with everything to lose?

  
  


The lack of people in the West Tower surprised her, but after she thought about it, Daphne was pretty sure none of the Death Eaters would run around, screaming "Get the owls, get the owls!" She could be wrong. Merlin knew how insane some of them can be. "Erasmus," she called anxiously to her tawny owl. Normally, families of their high status would have bought something expensive and showy, but the Greengrass family used their wealth to get more wealth—and, in time, standing and power. Now that both the Malfoys and Parkinsons had fallen, Daphne was positive her family was the highest-standing, Pureblood family.

  
  


Erasmus hooted and scratched his foot against his perch. There was an empty spot next to him, which perplexed Daphne as the rest of the room looked uncomfortably tight. "What's wrong, Erie?" He ruffled his feathers and tucked his head into the fluffy bunch of them. Unfortunately, Daphne failed to understand his body language. "Fine, don't answer me. I need you to deliver a message— _shit_! I don't have a quill and parchment," she moaned. Her stupidity astounded! Daphne dropped down to the floor, unmindful of the straw, owl droppings, and skeletons that lined it. "What am I supposed to do now?" She buried her face in her hands.

  
  


Erie flew down from the perch to Daphne's left shoulder and nipped at her ear. He hooted softly several times until she looked at him. In his eyes, Daphne saw a striking understanding she had never seen before. "Get Uncle Laurence here— _any_ way you can, do you understand? Do whatever it takes!" Erie flew out of the Owlery without another look at her.

  
  


::: ::: :::

  
  
"What the _Hell_ did you do to that bird?" her uncle hissed after he stomped up beside her. "He just flies right through the window—very stupid, by the way, it could have been closed—and starts pecking, _pecking_ at me! I have skin missing because _that bird_ tried to pull me all the way to Hogwarts." Daphne smiled at her Uncle Laurence, always the most hot-tempered member of her family. "What're you smilin' at, you little Devil? I bet you told the bird to do it, too. Making me Apparate to Hogsmeade and then _walk_ to Hogwarts," he grumbled, rubbing at his arm.  
  
Daphne lunged forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging tight. "How did you know to come here?"  
  
"Well, I didn't _know_ , but I had a feeling. There are only so many places you'd be during the school year." Uncle Laurence grinned, patting the back of her head. "I'm not that stupid, you know."  
  
"Yeah, I know." She straightened from her hug, looking him directly in his eyes. "Listen," she said, her voice grave. "We need your help. Our parents refuse to fight, but _you_ —we knew you'd help! You're our only hope!"  
  
Uncle Laurence laughed. "I'm not your _only_ hope, Daphne. Hogwarts has many allies, but how could I refuse a good fight?" He winked.  
  
Her green eyes twinkled with happiness as she grabbed his hand, squeezing for just a moment. "Follow me."  
  


::: ::: :::

  
  
When the battle was over, Astoria, Daphne, and Uncle Laurence huddled in the midst of the other Slytherins, only separated from the Death Eaters, who were running and scattered, and the Malfoys, who had edged into their own corner of the battlefield. The three of them were covered in blood and dirt, extremely tired, but _proud_ —of themselves, of their house, and of their school. The Slytherins had done their part. In the Battle of Hogwarts, the Slytherins proved themselves to be more than just the house of evil. They had self-preservation skills, resourcefulness, bravery, and, most of all, loyalty to their house and their school.  
  
Astoria stared across the battlefield at the Malfoys and nudged her sister. "Shouldn't we get them to come over?"  
  
Daphne glanced over at the family, curled around each other in a loving embrace, and shook her head. "Let them be. They deserve their peace."  
  
"An' so do we," Uncle Laurence mumbled, leaning into Daphne's shoulder. She smiled.  
  
"Go to sleep, Laurie."  
  
"Don' call me tha'," he muttered, already halfway asleep.  
  


::: ::: :::

  
  
Both Astoria and Daphne returned to Hogwarts when it was reopened. Daphne felt rather lonely as a seventh year at Hogwarts because few of her year had returned, let alone those in her house. Draco spent as much time with his family as possible, Pansy dared not show her face in a public forum, Crabbe was dead, Goyle was in Azkaban, Millicent remained loyal to Pansy (and she never liked school much anyway), and Quirina Rivers and Tracey Davis tragically died in the Battle. The only ones who had returned to Hogwarts with her were Theodore and Blaise. Theodore posed no surprise; he was the most intellectual of the Slytherins, forcing himself to get through without the preference of his professors. "Do not doubt me, though," she remembered Theodore saying. "If I need an extra favor in a particular course, I will not refuse the boost, but I want to learn for myself."  
  
Blaise, however, had been stricken by the war. As each month passed under the Carrows, Blaise grew more quiet, solemn, and close to Tracey. While his views on Muggleborns and half-bloods changed dramatically, he was heartbroken when he found Tracey dead and he had been in a deep depression ever since. Daphne befriended him as much as she could, but he was much too sullen now. According to Blaise, he realized how shallow he had been when he thought his blood status and good looks would get him a well-paying job. "Tracey would have been proud if she could see you like this," she told him to no reaction.  
  
Most of their year consisted of the surviving Ravenclaws; Hermione Granger and Sophia Roper made up the ranks of Gryffindor; and Ernie Macmillan, Zacharias Smith, Hannah Abbott, and Megan Jones returned as Hufflepuffs. It was a lonely sixteen compared to the forty of the previous years.  
  
After the year ended, Daphne started a comfortable job with Hermione Granger in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures as the Head of the Goblin Liaison Office.  
  


::: ::: :::

  
  
"Elizabeth, Jasper: Get down here _right this minute_!" Daphne glared at the top of the stairs at her two children, who looked sheepishly back at her. "What did I tell you about using Daddy's wand as a toy?"  
  
Theodore placed a hand on her shoulder. "Calm down, honey, you know they didn't mean any harm."  
  
She glanced sideways at him, and then at his hand. " _Honey_ , our kids are almost old enough to start Hogwarts. I think it's time for them to learn that _wands are not toys_!"  
  
"Well, your sister's Scorpius didn't learn that until he was 13 and his nose grew bigger than Snape's."  
  
Daphne sighed. "So you would rather have our children learn not to do something by _doing it_? What kind of twisted logic does that follow, Theo?"  
  
"It happens to work very well! Of course, it could be dangerous, but we know how to handle them. We'll provide them with the right situations. We'll lock them up in their room for twenty-four hours with our wands. When they come out, they'll either be dead, horribly disfigured, or perfectly fine, if not a bit averse to wands."  
  
She buried her face in her palm and shook her head. "Sometimes I wonder why I thought you'd be a good father."  
  
Her husband grinned, tilted up her head, and kissed the corner of her mouth. "It's because I'm brilliant."  
  
"Too bad our children are idiots."  
  


_Finis._  
  
---  
 


End file.
